


All Because Of You

by Planetargo



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angry Billy Hargrove, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, Gay Billy Hargrove, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), M/M, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Redemption, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:05:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planetargo/pseuds/Planetargo
Summary: Steve hated Billy, so why was he having such a hard time showing that?(Where Steve discovers that Billy isn't as awful as he thought, but he's still an asshole.)





	1. If only you knew

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Yes. I feel like I'm just shitting out one fanfic after another...  
> This one i actually like though and i hope that you guys find it a little more realistic than some. But yes! please read and leave some comments and kudos. Have fun.

"Will you fucking leave me alone? God damn!" 

I didn't mean to scream. I swear. But I was like an abused lion that had been poked and prodded inside its cage for so long, and it finally just couldn't take it anymore. It's animalistic behavior released from inside of its heart. And so it attacked.

But that stupid hideous smile only seemed to stretch farther across his face and I think that's probably what makes me most mad. The thing is no matter what tactic I used, whether it be ignoring him to the point of isolating myself, or pulling every single bit of rage out of my body and inflicting it on him verbally, he just never seemed to quit. Never seemed to understand that I was not interested in this game he was playing. I was not interested in going along with it because I, Steve Harrington, had already wasted enough of my fucking life. 

But here we both stood in the cafeteria of Hawkins high school. Facing each other as other high school students continued munching on their food but eventually stopping to stare at the commotion that was going on in the middle of the hall. It was like a show down, survival of the fittest, and like I said before, a game. 

New friends and old friends, and people I probably have never met before in my life began to crowd around us. In this dead cell town it really showed how bored people actually were. Instead of continuing to eat their lunch, They all crowded around the cage, popcorn in hand.  
Ready to watch two beast fight and maw each other's eyes out.  
It was like a circus.

"You should probably step down from that high horse you've been sitting on top of.  
You might regret it." 

Like the beast I was I lacked self control. I was no longer able to choose the words that came out of my mouth and control the feelings that I felt inside my body.  
"I'm so sick and tired of you. When will you let it go Hargrove? When will you find some other activity that is more interesting than terrorizing me?"  
And then the lion bared its teeth.

"I cant help it. Your like a drug." He replied while taking a step forward. His smile had disappeared into more of a knowing smirk.  
"I keep coming back for more."

And of course I didn't think. I didn't rehearse in my head what I was about to say. All I could do was feel the anger that coursed through my veins like boiling hot water. Electricity running through my fingers and then into my arms. They were itching to hurt. Like the idiot I was I didn't think about the repercussions of what I was about to say.  
"You are fucking sick. Go get some help."

And like a transition in a fucking movie, screen to screen, Billy's rough fist hit my face like a pop from a gun. I wallowed over stumbling a bit. Accidentally stepping on Jessica's bag that was near my table. And then a sour sensation went straight back into my memory. A sensation of that night at the Byer's house when I had failed to do my one job. When I had failed to protect. That night I was vulnerable and cold on the ground, unconscious.  
The feeling of his fist hitting my face brought upon some anger, some flame that I didn't know I had burning under my own feet. It was contagious. The minute I tried to burn it out the more it grew like adding oxygen to a spark. Before I even knew what I was doing I charged myself at him. One foot in front of the other. .  
And then the lion attacked.

Billy fell backwards after my weight was added on to his chest. His head smacking the ground, and I remember my body having a slight shiver at the sound of it. In the very, very deep dark back of my mind I remember hoping and praying that I didn't crack his skull. The thought of him being unconscious while dark red blood seeped onto the white tiles of our cafeteria floor made me sick.   
But like I said, that was in the very, very deep dark back of my mind. I was to raged to even comprehend that thought.

He grabbed the folds of my jacket trying in some form or way to throw me off of him. I wasn't letting go. I held on tight and strong, hitting him in the face a couple times, loving but hating the feeling of his cheek molding into the shape of my knuckles. With each thrust you could hear the winded noise he would make, like the sound of a child getting spanked. 

I didn't even notice the sounds of my own screams as I attacked him with every bit of anger in my body. I went mad. I had finally lost it, and Billy's face was living proof of it. His nose was bleeding. Not like the night at the Byers but it was gushing as it ran down the sides of his face. His cheek was split which twinned the nice cut on his lip. He had both hands on my wrist staring up at me with this angered fear. This bewilderment of what could possibly be called surprise. And I don't know if it was because he didn't think I had it in me, or maybe it was the fact that he was unable to hit back this time. I wouldn't know. I was too busy trying to control my breathing.

And the next thing I know I feel bodies pulling me off of him holding me back by the arms. I was too phased an concentrated on only Billy to even notice the group of students surrounding us. And one thing I would like to mention was the fact that me and Billy never broke eye contact until I was physically forced out of the cafeteria. 

***

"Steven! What were you thinking? This kind of shit is unacceptable and you know it!" My mom's strong voice was yelling into my ear as I sat on the linens of our couch. I wish I could have tried to apologize and be a good son who felt sorry for his mother's distress, but all I could do was sit and stare at the carpet. The scene of what happened earlier this afternoon replayed in my head over and over and over again. It was like a cassette player with a scratch. The same verse replaying.  
She continued to rush around the house while my dad just stood there eyeing me with distaste, not that he had much taste for me to began with...

"You know, your mother and I do a lot for you. It would be nice if you could recognize that." He towered over me as I sat on the couch.

"Its kind of hard to do that when you guys are literally gone all the time." I wasn't being smart, or rude. I was simply just telling the truth. My dad looked at me like he always does. Like he has no clue in the world who I am. And I don't want him to know. 

"Markus, we need to leave, now." My mother urged. He gave me one last lingering look and hen headed out the door with a black suitcase. I wonder when he's going to do that and not return.

"Alright Steve." She walked around the room a couple times just to make sure she didn't leave anything. "Your dad and I are about to head off. We'll be back Thursday. Call if anything goes wrong." She put her lipstick in her purse, and checked her pockets to make sure she had what she needed.   
I was ready for her departure out the door. For the knowing silence to take over the empty space in the house. But unexpectedly my mother embraced me. Her perfume was strong and she felt huge even though she was slightly shorter than me.  
She quietly whispered in my ear, "I love you Steven. More than you know. What happened today really scared me. I hope when I come back we can talk about it." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

And then she left.

I wasn't even able to say a goodbye. I just stood there.  
I spent that first lonely night laying on the couch watching TV. Since I've been suspended from school for about 2 weeks I basically have all the time in the world to kill, really only till Thursday when my parents get back. This house might be all big and grand, and sure it had a pool, but being in it alone had to have made it the most boring place on Earth. It wasn't until about 7:30 that I got a knock on my front door.

And to be completely honest I was kind of skeptical. It's not often that I get visitors. And that might be from my lack of friends.

I came to the door and opened it. I was ready to see some old man trying to sell me Bibles, but there was nobody. Not a soul. I poked my head out and looked to the right. There was Mrs. Hinks and her husband sitting on their front porch. I look to my left and well, on my left it was just woods. Which were becoming darker every second because, it was 7:30 and the skies were beginning to dawn. I thought that I might be able to hear this person who is playing a horrible prank on me, but the only thing I heard was the dog across the street and the sounds of the sprinklers in my yard. 

I closed the door trying not to think about dark underground tunnels, or crazy dog monsters with no faces. I really did, and failed.   
That suspicious knock at my door made me paranoid, maybe even beyond that. I was home alone, no one else around. Completely vulnerable.

That night I slept with the lights on, not that it would make any difference but it made me feel that if something were to happen, at least it wouldn't be a surprise.  
I never did find out who knocked on my door. All of my soul really did hope it was a man selling Bibles.


	2. You Buying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, i like this chapter. It makes me feel good....  
> Leave a comment if you like it too...

"Uh, can I have two packs of American's please."

I was currently At Randy's pharmacy in the downtown area. I was in desperate need of toothpaste which I assumed they had enough of, and sadly Smokes. It's been about 3 days since the fight and so far so good. I found comfort in the silence of my home, but only by sleeping all day. And today I felt the sudden need that I should probably get out of the house.

After getting what I needed I open the door, listening to the cute little bell ring, and made my way outside.   
I stopped dead in my tracks after seeing what looked to be a blue Camaro that became very familiar to me the past 2 months. At first I didn't really know what to do. Run back in the store and get trapped in a corner, or quickly take a left and start walking the opposite of where my car was, but I took too long to make any decision. 

He was already beginning to step out of his car. 

I stood there frozen and time thinking what the hell? What are the chances that me and Hargrove somehow meet at the same store at the same exact time of day. It wasn't even that fear was running through my body. That was the last of my problems it was just the complete awkwardness of, well, being the one that beat him up and me having to deal with confronting him.

Well.... Billy Hargrove has never had an issue with confronting. Not since he moved to Hawkins. As long as I can remember, hes always been more than enough honest with him and up front about how he feels. Never once doubting his own words or thoughts. Always having complete confidence in his opinions, and even though I knew I shouldn't envy that, I did. It must be nice not worrying about what other people think of what you have to say all the time.

Billy stood there with a blank expression. A cigarette laying limp in his mouth. He hadn't even closed the door to his car yet.   
"Mother fucker..." Billy mumbled as he finally slammed the door shut and locked it. He hobbled his way to the front of the store, and I couldn't help but watch the way his right leg would limp every time he took a step. I didn't remember doing anything to his leg, in fact I'm positive I didn't.

He stopped standing about two feet away from me. We continued to have a stare off, neither one of us wanting to break it. His blue eyes were piercing, and even in the cold of the fall I was starting to break a sweat on the back of my neck from the nervousness.   
I shouldn't be nervous, he should. Not me. And for like the millionth time, my mouth moved before my brain did.

"Your leg." I announced. It sounded awkward when it came out. Almost like a statement.  
Billy took a long drag of his cigarette, looking down at his leg with no care in the world. Like it was obvious.

"Yeah. It ain't that special. You got one to."

And God I wish I would have just left the conversation there, and had walked back to my car. But for some reason my mouth moved again. Because when Billy was walking away I had some spasm or reflex to grab at Billy's shoulder.

He turned incredibly fast and looked at me. His eyes were unsure and... correct me if I'm wrong but he looked somewhat frightened. I released my hand and muttered a small apology.

I looked at the ground, spotting a brightly colored leaf that had fallen from some tree.  
"What?" Billy asked. 

"I... we need to talk." That's all I could mutter. It was pathetic. I have the ability to beat his ass into a pulp but I couldn't talk to him with any confidence.  
Billy looked at me with skeptical eyes. 

"Fair enough." And I didn't really think that made sense. I didn't know what fair enough meant.   
It was a brisk walk to the bench on the other side of the ice box. Literally 11 feet away. I couldn't believe that it was only three days ago when I beat the living shit out of him. And here we are sitting on a wooden bench like... we are friends. I shivered at the thought. Being friends with Billy Hargrove didn't sound like a normal thing. I couldn't create the idea of him treating someone kindly. 

And to think that the roles have been reversed slightly.   
I pulled out my pack of cigs and snagged one for myself. I felt Billy eyeing them in my hand, so I pushed one out so it was at a length to grab and pointed it in his direction. He took it, and didn't say a word. That wasn't supposed to be a gesture of kindness, it was just a simple thing thing that people do for other people. I know that feeling of craving nicotine so I was simply just putting myself in his shoes.

Thee conversation I planned in my head didn't really help me at the moment. I couldn't seem to process anything at this point. I know there were things I wanted to say to him. Really, there was.

"Well I guess I'll start first." Billy stated while wiping his hands on his jeans.  
Like I said, He was good at confronting.

"You beat my face in pretty good Harrington, I'm impressed."

I wasn't really expecting him to start giving me short handed compliments but okay...  
"I didn't think you could do it." He said mostly to him self as he sat slumped on the bench taking a drag from his-- my-- cigarette.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I questioned.

He brushed his fingers through his unruly hair and huffed. "When I came here I knew who you were-"

"You don't know me. At all." I cut in quickly.   
I didn't want him acting like he could see beyond me. Like he knew the relationship I had with my family, like he knew there was a whole deadly universe right under our feet.  
He eyed me for a second to see if it was safe to continue.

"I meant, that when I came here I heard about you." He took another drag from his cigarette. "You were no king." He scoffed, and for some unknown reason that insult didn't sting like I thought it would.

"You were a sad lump of shit. Anyone smart and not completely oblivious could see that. It just pissed me off that everyone loved you when you weren't anything special."  
I sat there thinking over his words. It was like they weren't even about me because I couldn't feel the sting from anything he was saying. "Yeah." Was all I responded with. He gave me a small look, it was small but significant.

"That doesn't really explain anything though." I said. 

"What do you want to know?" He asked nonchalantly. Like he had all the answers.

I thought about that. What did I want to know? Why he hated me so much? Why he almost killed me at the Byers. Why he even bothered? I replied with the only answer I felt was right.

"Everything." I said.  
Billy stared at me. Sharp eyes trying to cut me with precision. 

"Well, I might need another cigarette then." He had his hand out expectantly. 

I placed another new stick into his palm, watching as his fingers curled around it gently as to not break it. 

"To start off, it really pissed me off how you were so upset over that Wheeler girl. Which relates back to my previous comment about you not being shit. If you were such an icon at this school why the hell were you so stuck on that bitch?"

"First of all, Nancy is not a bitch. Second of all, why do you care about my love life? It has nothing to do with you."   
Billy got quiet for a second.

"I don't know..." Billy mumbled around his newly lit cigarette. "It was just disappointing I guess."

"What was disappointing?" I asked, uncertain where this was going.

"That you turned out to be such a push over." And that really shut me up. Now that one stung. And why? I couldn't tell.

I scoffed "Sorry I'm such a disappointment. If I had known you would be judging me I would have cleaned up my act, God."

Billy's lips parted into this shark smile and eyed me. "But that's where I was wrong. That fight.... something was different. Like there's something you didn't want to show, something you've been hiding." 

He spoke those words with some sort of passion, or excitement. Like it gave him a challenge. I didn't really know how to feel about that.  
Having someone pay so much attention to you, especially someone who really shouldn't. Well it's pretty off putting at the least. Billy was a strange type of person. He had layers upon layers, and most of them were ugly. It frustrates me that I'm so easy to peel away, but when it comes to him it's like licking a jawbreaker.

"I'm not hiding anything. You're just a royal pain in the ass. That's all."

"Yeah? Is that so?" But he wasn't smiling in a teasing way when he said that. His accusing eyes were trying to figure me out.

"What do you want me to say man? You have been taunting me for the last 6 months and I've sat there and took it like a pansy. I got fed up with your bullshit and I cracked. Give me a break." 

This time he took a long draw from his cigarette and blew the cloudy smoke in my face.

"Plus, it's not like you didn't have a break down too." I mumbled more to myself as a form of reassurance. But Billy heard that loud and clear. And did not like it.

"What was that? I had a mental breakdown? You better watch your mouth Harrington."

"Is that not the truth? You beat me half to death!"  
Billy scrunched his face at me like he couldn't believe what I said.

"Yeah, for good reasons too. You had my sister cooped up in some pedophiles house!"

"Good reasons? Reasons good enough that you threatened a 13 year old, and smashed a plate over my fucking head! I would say that's pretty mental enough!"

It took me a minute to realize that we were having a incredibly loud argument out side of a drug store. This conversation seriously wasn't going anywhere.  
Billy's chest was raising slightly and his breath seemed to quicken. He was trying to calm him self down and eventually he did. It was silent for a minute before either of us dared to talk and risk screwing things up even more.

I was pretty proud of the conversation to begin with though. Its impressive that only 3 days ago we were at each others throats, and now we are trying to dig one another apart.

"You just surprise me Harrington, that's all." Billy said at length. It was quiet but honest.  
I didn't say anything back because I didn't have any good reply. I felt burnt out. It doesn't take a lot for me to loose that fire that Billy was talking about, if I even have one.

"I Know that I'm a dick. I have people telling me that when I wake up in the morning. I Just..."

Well at least he's not that dense. I looked at him and saw that his mouth was tight and his eyes looked concentrated. He rubbed a cold hand over his face a let out a rough sigh.

"I just loose control sometimes, and I'm sorry."

And holy shit. If Steve ever thought he would see the light of day. Billy Hargrove apologizing?

"Not just for the other day, but for everything. Your face didn't deserve that plate..."

I didn't know what to say. That was the last thing I expected to here him say. He wouldn't look at me, in fact he was looking at his fist which had a green and purple bruise spreading over the knuckles. What was I supposed to say? That I forgive him? should I forgive him...

"Its fine." I said shortly.

Billy laughed, it was dry and heartless.  
"You don't have to lie through your front teeth, its fine. I know that you are pissed, I would be to."   
He scratched his forehead and then patted his jean cladded thighs. He seemed lighter now. Maybe he had been wanting to get that out for some time and just haven't mustered the courage.

"No. I mean. Yeah I am still pissed, but were equal now. I think."

"Equal?" He questioned, a dumb look on his face like what I said was fucking preposterous.  
I rolled my eyes at him, "Yes genius, Equal. Do you know what that word means?"  
He gave me a dirty glare and scoffed. "Fine, whatever." He stood up and stretched his muscles, jeans going taunt over his thighs and sweater rising up over his navel. 

And then I noticed something I shouldn't have. A dark marbling bruise painted across his side. I couldn't see much, but it was there. I know deep down in my shallow soul that I did not cause that. And I could only imagine it spreading further around his side...

"See ya princess." He saluted as he walked away, still traveling with the same limp as before. I never did get to ask him about it.

And after a slow minuet of him getting situated into his car, the blue Camaro growled and drove out of the parking lot.  
Who would have thought that the simple need for smokes and toothpaste would have brought the two of us here to have the conversation we had.


	3. Pipe Cleaner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.

"I have a favor." 

Dustin was on the other side of the phone, breathing just a little to heavily into the speaker. I pushed my Ray bands up on my forehead, "What do you need."

It was quiet for a second, only the sound of shallow breathing, and then, "You know that time I dropped one of the D&D pieces down Mikes sink?" He asked.  
What the hell? And yes I did remember that. It took three hours to find something that would fit down the sink, and once the party realized that it wasn't going to do anything, I had to get my big ass under the counter and open up the pipes myself. And after another hour of twisting screws, they found the small wizard piece covered in gunk.

"Yeah, what about it?" I crossed my arms.

"Well," Dustin hesitated. He cleared his throat, "It um, I happened again, but this time in my house. In my kitchen sink." Dustin's voice was apologetic to say the least.  
God damnit I groaned into the phone. "Are you shitting me Dustin?" 

"I know, I know, but Steve please. If my mom finds out she's gonna kill me, and I have to meet the party at six. Plus you know I have no clue about this kind of shit. Are you really going to leave me to handle this predicament on my own so I can make things even worse?"

I am going to murder him. So hard. Its everyday, this kid is always messing stuff up. And you know its not just him, its that whole group. They just destroy, break, and rip everything.

"You owe me Henderson. Big time."

"Thank you Steve! You know I love you for this." He could practically here the relief on the other side of the phone. And he was sure Dustin was grinning like an idiot right now.

"Yeah okay. I'll be there in 20. I've got to pick up some pipe cleaner and tape." I walked over to the small table sitting by the door to grab my keys, letting the phone cord stretch at its full length.

"Okay. See ya." And then he hung up. Another groan came out of my gut. This was so ridiculous. I am was always picking up their messes like some maid and I'm about over it.   
Like I said before, Dustin owed me.

***

"Pipe cleaner, pipe cleaner, pipe cleaner..."

I was reading through the isle at the corner store. And for some reason I was really struggling with finding the goddamn pipe cleaner. 

I crouched down getting closer to the tags to read the names. It felt like they had almost every other item except what I needed. Life really just wasn't on my side today. All I wanted to do was simply lay around in my boxers and watch reruns of the Twilight Zone. Not become Dustin's plumber.

"Vacuum bags?" I said out loud. Since when did they have Vacuum bags?

"We've gotta stop meeting like this Harrington." A voice from behind me said. I quickly wiped my head around, almost breaking my neck.

"Billy?" What was he doing here? And again the chances that we end up being at the same store at the same time. Fate just wasn't on my side. "I um... what are you doing here?" I mentally slapped my self for asking that question. I sounded so dumb. Every time I talk to this guy its like my confidence just seems to fly out the window.

"What? Am I not allowed here?" He ask with a sly grin on his face. He looked around as if he was waiting to see a sign that says get out. I Sighed.   
"You know that's not what I meant. I just wasn't expecting you."

Billy crouched down next to me and started reading the labels as well, "Can't say I was either. I came in here to get some sand paper and then I find you sitting on the floor looking at vacuum bags." He laughed a little while he focused on the labels. Hearing Billy Hargrove give a genuine laugh was like hearing one of a baby for the first time. Wow.

"I wasn't, I was looking for pipe cleaners." I said awkwardly.

"What for?" He asked, not really looking that interested in why. What was I supposed to tell him? That my best friend was a 13 year old boy and I was unclogging his mothers sink? Yes.

"Mrs. Henderson clogged her sink, so I'm going to fix it." I said, trying to sound proud. 

"With pipe cleaner?" Billy asked me. He had an expression on his face that looked as if he was hoping I was joking. Well I wasn't.

"Yes?" I was confused.

"Harrington. Pipe cleaner isn't going to fix a clogged sink. Maybe clean out a straw, but a sink?"

And then there was that laugh again. Light and effortless. I just couldn't seem to stop noticing it. And he was smiling a lot more as well. There was just something so different about this usually angry boy. And then I thought about the bruise.

All purple and green. Spreading like diseases around his hip and side. I avoided asking him though. It wasn't my business.

"Well, it worked last time." I argued and yeah maybe I did sound like a four year old. I just wanted to get the stupid pipe cleaner and fix Dustin's stupid sink.

"There was a last time?" And now Billy was full out laughing at me. I didn't want to smile. I wanted to say sour and mad and annoyed. But it was so contagious. Looking at Billy be something other than coy and insulting was just other worldly. I couldn't help but break a smile.

"Here I'll tell you what," And then Billy grabbed something off the top shelf. I followed his movements with my eyes, confused on what was going on.  
"This is a Plumbers snake. It'll work ten times better than fucking pipe cleaner. Let me come with you, show you how its done, and then you can fix old Mrs. Henderson's sink and make the women happy."

He handed the box which felt pretty heavy. "How does that sound?"

And then I blurted it out like I had no thought process. It slipped from my lips and I couldn't stop it. All I could think about is how kind Billy is being, and that kindness is being shown towards me.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" and his face dropped. Not like I broke his heart but like I had struck a cord that had made him hurt.

"Just the other day we were not even considered friends, and now you want to help me unclog Mrs. Henderson's sink because, well, Just because you want to? It doesn't make any sense."

Billy stared at the shelf, eyeing the products sitting there. He blew a shallow breath.  
"Yeah, I know." And then he leaned back against the shelf, letting his head fall back on some sponges.

"I just wanna make up somehow. I don't want people to hate me for the rest of my life." He looked at me, expression sorry. "If you don't want my help I understand. I just want you to know what I'm trying to do here." He waited for me to say something, anything. Eyes moving back and forth. But I didn't have any thing to say to that. He had already said it all. so then he stood up and began walking away.

If you were to asked me 2 months ago what I thought about Billy Hargrove, I would have said that he was an asshole who deserved to die, and that he was selfish and insane. I would have told you that the man was an awful person, and didn't have a conscious.

But this...

"Wait." I hollered. He turned his head slightly, eyes falling over my face. "I have no clue how to use this thing." I said mentioning to the box, waving it in the air slightly. And a sort of joy washed over Billy's face. He closed his eyes. 

"And your help would be nice." I muttered. Billy let a dazzling smile take over his face.

"Different from pipe cleaner, huh?" He teased. I walked past him not letting my smile be seen until he was following behind me. 

"Just shut up and buy your damn sand paper."

***

I didn't really think Dustin would be mad. Surprised? Yes. Confused? Of course. But mad? Yeah, no I didn't think about that.

"What the hell!" We were in his bedroom because he dragged me here to yell at me, but he didn't want to do it in front of Billy. 

"Okay, you have a lot of balls hanging out with that, that, psychopathic asshole."

"Dustin! Keep your voice down." I growled, looking back at the door to make sure it was closed. He was being so over dramatic, like always.

"No. I will not calm down Steven." Gross. Only my mom called me that. I just needed Dustin to listen to me, let me explain myself, and if not that then he can just avoid me while I'm here.

But he continued to flip out, "And you have the audacity to bring him into my house?!"

"God will you fucking chill out and listen to me?" Dustin closed his mouth for the first time since I've been here and glared at me. He harshly sat down on his bed and crossed his arms.

"Jeez, thank you." I brushed my fingers through my hair.

"listen, I didn't mean to spring this on you so suddenly. It was a surprise for me too." I pulled his desk chair out and sat down. Dustin looked pissed of, and I couldn't tell if he was being quiet because he wanted to listen or if it was because he was giving me the silent treatment.

"He offered to help,"

"You did it fine on your own last time!" He fused.

"Yeah but that was Mikes basement sink you idiot, let me fucking finish." And Dustin's mouth went shut again.

"Billy is going to help me fix your sink and that's all. I promise. Remember, you're the one that ask for MY help, so if we are going to do this, we're going to do it my way, got that?"

"Fine." He forced out. I kind felt bad because Dustin had every right in the world to be mad. Shit, he watched me get beat to death by this dude. But there is something different abut Billy now. Something lighter.

"Good." I stood up from the chair and headed to the door. I stood there for a moment wanting to say something.

"People change Dustin." And then I left.

When I headed back out to the living room I found Billy slouch on the couch with his arms folded. This was an insane situation. I was about to fix a sink with this guy that fucked me up a couple months back. and in my gut I new this was wrong, that i should be mad and freaking out. I shouldn't give him the satisfaction of forgiveness.  
But when I walked into the room his eyes flicked to me. And I couldn't say no.

"How much of that did you hear?" I asked feeling slightly nervous. He stretched like a cat and groaned

"Only the part about me being a psychopathic asshole, but other than that, not much." I closed my eyes and cringed. But then I thought, Dustin isn't really wrong.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Lets just get this over with." Billy got up, grabbed the back with the supplies, and we both headed to the kitchen. 

And holy shit...

The sink was disgusting. It was filled to the brim with murky food infested water, and to mention that it smelt just God awful. "He didn't tell me it was this bad." I cringed, and when I looked to my left Billy's face was mirroring mine.

"What did he do to it to make it get this way?" And could only wonder about that question. It really was nasty. And then a bubble popped from the surface of the tub... "I could only imagine." Billy's head looked at me and then back at the sink.

"Well," He said while rolling his sleeves up, "Lets dig in."

I thanked the lord that Mrs. Henderson had dish washing gloves. I don't know what I would do if I had to stick my hand in that sink.   
first we started off by removing the built up food around the drain. Billy said that even if we are able to get the sink unclogged the minuet we drain it, the food will just take the place of the toy that fell inside. So clump by clump we picked at all the soggy food in the sink.

"Have you done this before?" I asked because he seemed to know what he was doing.

"Yeah, I used to do dumb shit like this all the time when I was little. My old man wasn't about to clean up my messes, so if I clogged the sink I was the one to fix it." He said that while he pulled out a long noodle. 

I shivered.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." And it really did. I feel like I can relate with the kids. I hate having to follow behind them picking up every little thing they leave behind just because they are being careless.

"What about you pretty boy, Daddy get mad at you a lot when you were a kid?" I Looked up at him to see if there was a mocking face behind that question. But there wasn't. He was just simply concentrating on removing gun from the sink.

"Uh, no not really. My parents weren't really around much."

"So what. You had like a Nanny?" He took a break from digging to look at my face. I wasn't really sure how to respond.

"Nah, I just kind of did my own thing." We had both stopped our mission to fix the sink for a small moment. It took me a long time to notice that we were two large teenage boys standing very close together. It was a small sink.

"So you were all by yourself huh?" He asked while looking at me intently.

"Since I was seven." And I said that trying to sound light like it was a joke, but it came out very quiet and distant. Even Billy averted his eyes from me. I knew it was sad. What wasn't sad a bout a kid being alone 80 percent of his childhood because his parents valued there jobs more than the kid they decided to create. And then they want to sit there acting like I am the problem.

I wanted to change the subject. "So how is Max?" I said probably to cheerfully for the mood we were just in. And Billy was caught off guard with the change as well.  
"How the hell am I supposed to know, she basically doesn't talk to me anymore." I could totally get why. After that shit he pulled at the Byers house, and threatening the boy she likes. Hell, I would never speak to my brother again.

"Did you apologize?" I asked that as nicely as I could because the fear of Billy possibly snapping was still in the back of my mind.

"No." He said like it wasn't even a question. I looked up at him unable to believe what I heard.

"You didn't say sorry." 

"No."

"Why?" I drawled out. How can he expect change if he isn't able to simply apologize to his sister.

Billy scrunched his face like he does every time he feels justified. "Because she's a bitch, I'm not going to say sorry to that." And how many times have I told my self to think before I speak? Well apparently not enough.

"How in the world do you expect people to forgive you and stop hating you if it physically kills you to apologize? She is your sister, Step sister, I don't give a fuck. But she out of all people, even me, deserve a apology! If you really refuse to do that for her than you are what Dustin says. A Psychopathic asshole." I didn't mean to rant. I just felt like it was my job to stand up for Max. She was a good kid and didn't deserve what her brother did.

"Yeah but here's the thing, you don't know shit about Max and I. How about you trying to live with her. Anyways, its not any of your business. I'll apologize if I want to."  
Now that was the most Billy thing that I have herd him say all day. I knew that I have crossed a line that he wasn't comfortable with, I understand that. But someone has got to tell him.

"You're right, its not." And we just continued to pick food from the drain.


	4. Love My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a nice car ride. That's all.

Thursday came around, which meant my parents did as well. The house felt no different, only that it was twice as lonely as when they weren't there. I guess not having them around to remind me was probably the reason why. 

I haven't been very social. Wow so surprising! Yeah, but seriously. It's been a week since I've interacted with someone my age. At school, I would just walk through the halls like a fog was over my head. And sure there were kids who would whisper to each other as I walked by, the fight still being fresh in their sorry brains. But I didn't care. I've learned not too. Sometimes I roll my eyes at old Steve. Steve with the perfect hair, perfect reputation, perfect family, perfect life. I used to be much more bullshit. I lied to my self constantly, which created this fake identity that I couldn't even relate with. That identity was friends with Tommy and Carol, not me. That identity was the confident guy that could get any girl, not me. And it honestly explains a lot. Why I feel so alone all the time. Probably because all of those connections and friends that I thought I had were all fake. An alternate universe.

So when I do walk through those outdated high school halls, I don't feel out of place because for the first time in my life I was Steve. Boring old Steve. How exciting.

I opened my locker, adjusting my books so they could all fit, I notice the bent picture of Nancy's yearbook photo taped inside the metal door. My jaw clenched.

Oh Nancy, how smart you were to escape while you could. Her leaving was probably the best thing she could have done for herself, even if it did break my heart into a million pieces. And then I thought about what Billy said. 'That Wheeler girl' his exact words. And of course, they didn't do her justice. I tried to imagine Billy being sweet to a girl, gentle hands caressing her face, his words coming out with a soft buzz. It was an unsettling thought. He wouldn't understand, not even if it hit him. So I tried not to give it to much thought, to much heart. 

It was 3:35 and school has let out, the halls becoming empty and the noises getting softer. I closed my locker, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I sluggishly walked by the wooden classroom doors, every now and then noticing sneaker scuffs on the tile.  
The double doors at the end were glowing with the outside light, and I couldn't wait to throw them open. Letting the fresh air hit me, knowing that I was free. 

The drive home was like any other, simple and boring. I could take the normal route, the road that leads straight through town and passed all the shops and wealthy houses. But why not be unique, huh? 

The backroads were quiet and curvy, autumn trees going dead. My window was down and the air flowing in was probably too cold for my liking but I made no effort to roll it up. One of my favorite things about this route was that the traffic was close to none. Not that Hawkins had much, to begin with, but hey. If it can be avoided, it will.  
I've been driving this way for almost a year now, and so far I haven't seen anyone else with the same idea. 

At least I thought.

As I drove down Windmill Way, I could see a car in the distance. And I noticed that as I got closer, it wasn't moving with me. Well, I'll be damned. Another like-minded soul.  
But not just any car was stopped on the side of the road.

It was a dark blue Camero.

I almost couldn't believe my eyes. It was like my hand had a seizure. Not knowing what to do, and my brain had no clue what to tell it. I pulled over parking my car with a quick stop. I turned the engine off and hopped out of my car with a dropped jaw.  
Billy was propped again the hood of his car, head peering down at the transmission. He was only wearing a thin gray t-shirt, and it was the middle of Fall. He didn't acknowledge my car or the fact that I was now standing seven feet behind him.

"Wow." 

For some reason, I had this growing smile planted on my face. What a predicament this is, a Billy Hargrove on the side of the road with a rundown car. Karma am I right?

"Yeah, go ahead, laugh it up." He mumbled, oil-covered hands now messing with a tube.  
"We can't all have daddy buy us a nice fancy car, can we?" He mocked, head crooked at me, with one eyebrow curved.

I rolled my eyes. That car was handed down to me from my dad, and of course, I was grateful. I mean, most kids my age have to work for theirs. But still, the fact that more people than just Billy assumed that got on my nerves.

"Whatever," I walked over to look underneath the hood with him. The familiarity that came with casually walking up to Billy and his car frightened me. If this were two and a half months ago, I would have probably tried to hit him on the side of the road. But ignoring my thoughts, I started to look at the engine in front of me. Steam was rising from somewhere deep inside all the pipes and wires, which usually doesn't mean anything good.  
I honestly don't even know why I stopped. I could have easily just driven by and went home. Home, where I could be laying in my bed, music playing in the background.  
But without even thinking, I had already pulled over before I could.

"Looks pretty bad," I stated.  
Billy glared at me, lip ring in a way that made it look taunting.

"Wow, really? I would have never guessed." He drawled out, sarcasm dripping from his words. I gave him a sideways glance. His hair was hanging in his face while one fist held to the cover of the hood, and others propped on the front of the car. He was analyzing.

He fumbled with a cap, and then with a wire, checking to make sure it was connected. I could see the way he was shuffling, getting antsy as I watched him.  
"Okay, so are you just gonna stand there all day? Cause it's kinda pissing me off man."

"Well, I..." honestly I had no clue what I was doing, what I wanted. And once again my confidence withered away, leaving me a stuttering mess. "I was just going to, to wait ya know? In case you needed a ride?" I shuffled putting my weight on each foot, my hands digging deep in my pockets. They were freezing, and while I was shielding away from the wind, neck tucked onto my shoulders, Billy didn't even flinch.

He gave me a confused look, eyes squinted as if he was looking at the sun.

"And why would you do that?" He asked, nonchalantly, as he continued to pick and prod at his car.

Well, that was a great question. Why would I do that? My brain went back to last week when Billy kindly offered to help me unclog Ms. Henderson's sink. He, Billy, the bully king! I wanted to help me out.  
I mentally groaned. 

"A solid for a solid?"

Could I have said anything better, maybe a little bit less stupid? Probably not.  
Billy rested his hands and sighed, seemingly contemplating his decision. With a quick wipe of his hands on his jeans, and a reach for the cover he looked over at me.

"Fine." Then he closed the hood. He turned to me, eyebrows raised, and an expectant look on his face.

"So, are...are we doing this? Or..." I'm slightly confused. 

"God, do you have any brain cells?" And then he walked past me, and around my car helping himself into the passenger seat.  
I still stood there like an idiot.

"Wait. Like right now?" I questioned.

And then Billy hollered out the window so I got a move on.

I wouldn't say the drive was uncomfortable, but it also wasn't the most pleasant either. We both sat quietly. While Billy was resting his arm on the window, legs spread wide, content look on his face, I was sweating in the middle of Fall. I just couldn't sit still. Maybe it was the silence or just the circumstance. For some reason Billy made me feel insane, crazy? No, unsettled. Just simply out of my own skin.  
My grip on the wheel was tight and my posture was too straight when compared to my normal slouch. But I guess Billy could feel my anxiousness.

"So uh, I'll have to get my car back eventually. I mean, after school you can just drop me off at it or whatever."

It took me a second to understand, to listen. I replayed his words in my head.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah... of course. Yeah." I sputtered. Of course you fucking idiot! How else will he get home, Jesus?

He was looking out the window, hand near his mouth, I think biting his nails. "Thanks." It was quiet but I heard it like the car wasn't rumbling in my ears.

"Sure. Solid for a solid." And again with that, ugh. I need to get out of this car, I need to just open the door and fall out because this fucking silence is killing me. It's so... awkward. But then Billy's eyes are on me again, searching for something, anything.

"You're acting weird." He stated, still watching, looking. I kept my eyes on the road, like the good drive I am. But damn did I want to shrivel up and die right now. He just makes me feel so small. So insignificant.

"What?" Was all I could mutter out.  
"No, I'm not." I tried again, with an uneven voice. He huffed out a small single laugh and shook his head.

"Right. So, you normally drive as if you have a pole up your ass?" He commented on my posture. I instantly relaxed my back into the seat. He was still eyeing me. Fuck.

"You're being so... polite. Why?"

I actually laughed at that, who knows maybe I was laughing at myself. For being so fucking weird.

"Is that wrong? Would you rather me insult you the whole fucking ride?" And I had no idea where that came from.

"No, but usually you have something, smart, to say, or at least a reply." And then he was looking ahead of himself again. I thought about what he said, stating that I usually say something smart. I didn't know what that meant.

I wanted to argue, to keep up this act, that I didn't understand why I was doing, but I couldn't grip it any longer. I sighed, eyes closing shut for half a second, because yes. I am a good driver.

"Sorry."  
He looked at me, then I looked at him. Eyes meeting at the same time. I jerked my head back to the road once again.

"Got a lot on my mind I guess." It was a vague response, and not very fulfilling but how was I supposed to tell him that he made me a mad man?  
And then suddenly Billy's arm reached out at the glove box and started searching for what I could guess was my cassette tapes?  
He carded through them, taking his time to read the titles. I felt almost exposed, like him looking at my music tastes was just too personal.

"Never thought of you as a 'Kate Bush' kind of guy." He had a snarky smile on his lips, lightly chuckling to himself. 

"Yeah. I uh, she was my mom's favorite." I remember being little and her playing that in the living room. At a time when she didn't agree to go on business trips with my dad.  
Billy's eyes darkened just slightly like I had brought up something that made him upset. But just as quickly that look went away.

"Heart, Siouxsie and the Banshees, even fuckin Blondie? Do you know any male artist?" He was being playful. As playful as Billy Hargrove could be. My cheeks reddened a little, knowing that I looked like an idiot.

"They were all my moms, she didn't want them so she gave them to me. Give me a break." But he was still smiling. Still teasing. And for some odd, mysterious reason, that made my stomach tighten.

"Do you listen to them?" He asked, flipping them over to read the back labels.

"I mean, yeah," I said, sounding defeated. Billy held one up by my face, between his pointer and middle finger. A smirk was placed on his lips, tugging the skin from one side. His eyes were calm, comfortable.

"Then you can't use your mom as an excuse." I groaned at what he said. His laugh bounced around the walls of my car, filling the air with a warm vibe. I couldn't help the smile that I had. I wanted so bad to not be affected by him, to be able to keep that wall up. 

"You know, that's another thing that surprises me about you." He said while shuffling through the cassettes, the ones he's already seen. His head was facing down at his moving hands, one side of his mouth lifted.

"What, my music tastes?" I questioned.

"If I would have guessed the shit you listened to when I first came here, it would have been shitty pop music. That crap that plays, over and over again on the radio."

I scoffed, of course, he thought that, but I guess I kinda fit the part at that time. Old Steve did look like he would listen to shitty pop music.

"Well, jeez. Thanks." While rolling my eyes at the assumption, I couldn't shake this feeling of...giddiness? Maybe that's what I've been feeling this whole time. I could be wrong, I might just be having a panic attack without knowing it. But right now, with Billy resting so comfortably in my car, I was starting to think maybe that wasn't it.

"You like The Psychedelic Furs?" He asked, trying to look casual, but anxiousness and hope restless under his skin.

When he said that name, a smile grew on my face. "Yeah, actually."  
Billy's shoulders relaxed and he nodded his head in agreement. 

"That 1982 album was so good." He said proudly. 

"The one with 'Love my way'?" I asked, not remembering if that was the right album. This newfound connection over music tastes blew my mind. He looked like someone who would spend there time listening to Led Zeppelin, or Bon Jovi, but definitely not the weird alternative bands.

"Hell yeah, that was their best album yet."

The rest of that car ride was filled with conversations about music, and thrash bands, and lead singers. And sometimes we would argue about how one was better than the other. It was strange. Incredibly so. It was as if we've been friends for years, throwing playful banter at each other. The conversation seemed to roll so effortlessly. Transitions getting easier every time.  
Billy also seemed to fall into the conversation quite easily. He was still witty and sometimes a little too rude, but compared to what I knew he could be, it was so much better. Plus, I don't know how I would react if he was too nice. I don't think I'm ready for that. Laughing Billy might be my favorite Billy. Under not angry Billy.  
His smiles were so large, the ones that can't help but make other people smile with them. Bright white teeth squinted eyes. I looked at his face and remembered the blood, the dirt, and the pure rage in his eyes. How empty he looked. And now he was slouching with one knee up, explaining to me how you can tell what a person is like based on the music they listen too.

"Its just pure facts, man." He turned his chin up with confidence.

"You don't know that." I retorted. Testing him.

He sat up straighter and began to explain. "Sure I do. Think about it," he pulled a cigarette out and placed it in his mouth, words becoming mumbled, "take a girl like Nacy for instance." And then he looked at me reassuring the fact that he brought her up. "Nothing personal, just observation."

So I nodded my head to tell him to continue.

"Girls like Nancy, ones that don't know anything other than this town, this school. They all think the same shit. They want a boyfriend and then soon a husband to follow that, and eventually kids with some white fenced house." He spoke with enthusiasm.

"Girls like that, they don't know how to stray away from the path of life. They follow each other. They see one friend get married and then suddenly have this urge to have the same thing. This need to fit. Like a puzzle piece."

Listening to his words was like listening to Jesus talking to you in the middle of the night. His words were so thoughtful, and it was fucking weird. I never looked at him as someone who had deep thoughts about this kind of shit.

"It makes them feel secure." He said quietly to himself, hands playing with a strap on his boot. 

"Can you guess what they listen too?" He asked, eyebrows raised, mouth ready to speak.

"I, uh..." I stuttered. And then he pointed a finger in my face, making my head flinch back.

"They listen to whatever the world tells them to listen to. If a new song comes on the radio, and everyone loves it, so do they. Even if the song is shit. They convince their selves that, that is what they like. When in reality they don't really know."

The passion that he spoke with made me almost feel strongly about the subject as well. He wasn't wrong. In fact, he was absolutely right. But not just girls, guys, everyone. They all do it. Like, follow the leader. Like a herd of Zebras.  
But if he could read almost the whole population of Hawkins, I wonder if he could read me. Would he be able to pick me apart?

"What about me?" 

"You?" He asked. And then suddenly he was quiet. Reserved, taken back.

"You..." he repeated. Averting his eyes.

"I'd like to hear what philosophical cliche you can put me in." I smiled coyly, biting the inside of my cheek.

He shook his head, then licked his lips. "Personally, I just think you're overrated."

Usually, I would get offended, but the way he said wasn't mean. I laughed, maybe too much for my own insult. But for some reason, it might have been the most fucking hilarious thing I've heard in a while.  
And he just sat there and stared at me with an unsure smile and wide eyes. Like I was crazy. It felt good to hear it too. For someone to... tell the truth. That's all Billy has ever done.

"Couldn't agree more," I stated simply. And I meant it. I was the most overrated person I knew. When I was cool I was overrated because everyone liked something that was really nothing, and now that I'm basically a pile of shit, I'm the talk of the town. Still overrated.

When he looked at me again, he was no longer smiling. His mouth a straight line, and eyes questioning. Like he sensed something he was supposed to.  
I turned my head and started focusing on my driving, noticing that his street was coming to my left.

"Which house is yours?" 

We drove down about four blocks until he told me to stop. A small simple house with a simple yard but a very complicated boy living inside of it. It was quiet for a second. Both of us just sitting there, frozen in time. I was looking at my steering wheel, while he stared out the window. He looked thoughtful again, curls rolling against his cheek 

I was startled when his hand smacked down on the center consul in a too enthusiastic motion. 

"Well, I gotta go." And now he was outside the car. One hand on the door, other on the roof. He looked at me and gave me a half-hearted smile, which caught me off guard because not even two minutes ago we were laughing and carrying on like nothing ever happened.

"Thanks." He muttered, and then closed the door with a shove. I watched him walk his way to his front door, skipping two steps at a time. And now that the car was so quiet and empty, with the warm air next to me from the body that was sitting there, I realized I didn't want to be alone. Because...

Loneliness sucks ass.


End file.
